


Riptide

by changkyunnie



Category: Monsta X (Band)
Genre: Fluff and Angst, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Kissing, M/M, Sexual Content, Singing, Underage Drinking, a cute summer fic, blowjob, im sorry i couldn't not add sad shit, kihyuk, love me some angst ;), mention of depression, mention of homelessness, minhyuk is a loner & kihyun has a nice voice, thats basically it, will probably update tags
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-15
Updated: 2017-06-15
Packaged: 2018-11-14 06:05:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,692
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11201997
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/changkyunnie/pseuds/changkyunnie
Summary: Countless hours, timeless days spent stuck in the feeling between sunny afternoons and the car rides down roads void of human presence.This is his world.





	Riptide

**Author's Note:**

> once again I should be studying for science but,, whatever :)

Feathered wings flap distantly along the shoreline, tips dancing along the clouds and disappearing beyond the horizon, but not before dipping down to the cool water below and spraying the air with a cloud of mist that catches the sun's light perfectly.

The summer sun shines brighter than the snow-like hair on his head, warming the sand that he feels beneath his toes, heating the rocks the water does not dare to touch. The trees and lush greenery that surround the secluded resting place rustle in the breeze, seeming to breathe in rhythm with his lungs and sigh in contentment.

Minhyuk takes a handful of sand between his slender fingers and watches the golden grains slip between the cracks, hissing as they hit the ground below and rejoin the landscape. The sand is hot and heavy in his hand, a familiar feeling he thinks he could never live without.

The refreshing air that rolls in from the crashing waves tickles his hair, gently clutching and pulling at it lightly, giving him a break from the overbearing heat of the sun on his face. He loves the way it feels on his skin, the cool breeze soothing and gentle as it moves across the expanse of his arms, feeling as if he were standing on the edge of a ship.

He lives for this feeling.

The calming rush of the ocean as it drags over the sand, clashing together in flashes of white and deep blue.

The distant voice of the birds that fly overhead, circling the sunlight and casting shadows along the beach with their wings.

The privacy of the branches that overlap behind his back, concealing the tiny space from view and bathing him in much appreciated shade.

This is his world.

This spot on the beach, hidden behind leaves and greenery that smell of summer, is the only place he knows.

His best friends are the waves, always there to catch him should he fall, and his bed is the sand, the stars his nightlights that lull him to sleep and create a world he loves to lose himself in, a sky ever so sweet and bright.

Countless hours, timeless days spent stuck in the feeling between sunny afternoons and the car rides down roads void of human presence.

Minhyuk sighs and rests his elbows atop his knees, basking in the summer warmth that beats down on his back. There's nobody here but him, a stretch of beach he found long ago as a kid, a perfect spot hidden by a patch of trees that hang over a sandy cliff. None of the tourists or even the locals venture this far, usually remaining closer to the town for convenience. But not him.

Minhyuk has never needed people.

He's grown accustomed to the smell of sea salt that invades his senses with every visit, and the gentle clash of the water's movement that rocks him to sleep underneath millions of burning stars. His parents don't worry about him, all alone out on the beach, because that's all he's ever done since he was very small, run off to a place where worries seemed to evaporate under the hot sun.

His parents work often and are only around on occasion, usually leaving him to his own devices and entrusting him with the house. He gets by with the money they leave, the food they prepare, and the maid they hire to clean during their absence. Minhyuk had never needed to adjust to the life, having grown up that way since he was a baby.

His parents probably shouldn't have had a kid, but who is he to judge?

He shrugs off the memories.

Most of his life is spent here. Just him, the ocean and the trees that conceal him from the back and his sides. It's his own life, one that has no real connection to the one he fakes back at home. It mirrors the other in a twisted way, opposite yet balanced.

During summers, he almost never leaves. He spends days running barefoot along the tide, rippling water nipping at his toes and washing over in calm waves, sweet yet salty memories he keeps for no one other than himself.

During the school year, however, things are a little different. He still spends every waking moment possible walking along the beach, swimming, lying in the shade- but only when he's not in classes. In his school, he talks to no one. Nobody bothers to try, so neither does he. He doesn't see the point in friendship, or even human contact in general, so instead he keeps to himself, all alone out on the hot sand.

All Minhyuk needed was his beach, his sky and the branches that closed him in, and nobody else. This is what it's always been and this is what it always will be.

He stays seated on the sand for what must be hours, counting down the moments to another day, inching closer to midnight with every second passing and every wave that rolls into the shoreline. He lies there, painted in golden light as he watches the sun dip down to the horizon and make the sky explode with colour. The multicoloured clouds decorate the sky with oranges, yellows and pinks, mirrored by the diminishing waves below.

This moment, this exact point in time in which the sun kisses the water, will forever be his favorite.

And just as he thinks this, he realizes: there is something about tonight that is surprisingly different.

Tonight when the sun meets the earth and the sky begins to glow, it isn't as quiet as usual, as peaceful as any other day he has been here. Yes, the waves gently crash against the rocks, the summer winds tug at the branches and the seagulls cry as they take their final flight of the night.

The singing has never been there.

Minhyuk sits up more, craning his neck around in search of the beautiful voice's source. At first he's annoyed at the breach of his privacy, the disturbance that comes with such a voice, (being a living person) but that all melts away as he takes the moment to listen.

_Lady, running down to the riptide_

_Taken away to the dark side_

_I wanna be your left hand man_

The voice is serene, smooth like the sound of the waves that lurk behind it. It adds to the ambiance of the beach, perfectly blending with the warm, honey coloured sand and the colours that streak across the skyline.

_I love you, when you're singing that song and_

_I got a lump in my throat 'cause_

_You're gonna sing the words wrong._

Sadly the song ends, its either the last bit or the singer had cut it short there. Either way, the white haired boy is beyond entranced by the words that had fallen out from somewhere along the beach. The voice that sang them was pure and soft, uncorrupted and untamed. It had a wild sort of feel, as if its owner were expressing their feelings free of any limits whatsoever, and had the slightest hint of a lisp, breathy and docile.

Minhyuk gets up, walking in the direction of the voice (which happens to be to his left, through the trees) and standing close to the treeline, peeking through the patch of branches in his way. He lightens his breathing and tries his best to make no sound, waiting in quiet for the voice to begin singing once more.

After about a minute of the sun setting, it does.

_There's this movie that I think you'd like_

_This guy decides to quit his job and heads to New York City_

_This cowboy's running from himself,_

_And she's been living on the highest shelf._

The sun finally dies, sacrificing itself in order to let the moon live for the night. Darkness washes over the beach, bringing with it a cool wind that ruffles the branch in front of him and opening tiny gaps in the leaves. Through it he catches a sight of what he thinks to be a boy, maybe around his age. He doesn't see a face, but only a figure.

Minhyuk is _not_  a people person. He doesn't talk much, speaks only when spoken to and never bothered to make friends. His best friends were the waves, and that was all. That's what he had come to believe.

So instead of pushing past the branches and talking to the boy who has the voice like pure silk, he refrains and let's go of the branch. He abandons the patch of trees altogether in favour of returning to his spot, sadness gripping his heart and something inside his chest urging him to go back, speak to the angel-like figure beyond the leaves.

His shyness gets the best of him and he ends up exactly where he started, back against the sand that is not so golden underneath the pale moonlight. He listens to the waves, counting each one in his head like sheep, and breathes in the salty air, trying to forget about what he had heard and half hoping the person leaves soon.

The voice never leaves.

It sings. It _breathes_ , it lives not twenty feet away from where he rests. It drags him into a deep sleep through a lullaby of gentle words, peaceful and harmonious.

Minhyuk begins to feel his eyes close, lashes fluttering as they try desperately to stay open. He wants to stay awake, wants to stargaze and listen to the sounds of the nature that surround him as he does every night. But something about the boy that sings his heart out to no one but the waves, the boy that sat so close he could hear him sigh, seemed to ease him into a state of drowsiness, of calm.

Not once does he check to see who sits beyond the trees, and not once does that voice stop singing. Minhyuk remembers that just before he had fallen asleep, in that moment between consciousness and slumber, he had thought that the boy's voice was the most beautiful thing he'd ever heard.

 

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> I'm planning maybe about 8 chapters for this. anything, kudos, comments, are appreciated!! <3


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